


Topsy Turvy

by eatyourveggies



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Egalia's daughters, F/M, Feminist Themes, Gender Reversal, Gender Roles, International Women's Day, March 8th, Satire, Social Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatyourveggies/pseuds/eatyourveggies
Summary: In honour of International Women’s Day, please find a gender-flipped view on some of the most annoyingly sexist bits from the Monastery. It will consist of three one-shots, posted throughout the day.I hope you enjoy them even though they might be a bit… special? But, more importantly, I hope you honour yourselves as women (and I of course use the term inclusively). Today and every fucking day.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Sergio Marquina
Comments: 28
Kudos: 55





	1. Boom. Boom. Ciao.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the brilliant classic feminist work “Egalia’s daughters”, though I really don’t push it far enough.

Jotting down some notes, only partially paying attention to the chatter around her, Raquel nudged her glasses up her nose. On her left, Sergio was engaged in the conversation, occasionally letting his foot nudge hers or bringing his hand to rest on her thigh.

She was still getting used to this, mixing her two worlds together; her band, and the life she now shared with Sergio. She hadn’t expressly asked him to join her on this venture, but he hadn’t left it up to debate, had simply proclaimed that this was his fight as much as hers. He’d further thwarted any objections she might’ve considered raising by pointing out that injustices such as what was being done to Río, was the reason he’d left his life and career behind, taking his daughter and ailing mother to Palawan, to her.

When she’d gotten a report that he had left Spain with his family, then dropped off the face of the earth, she didn’t dare to believe that he might be on his way to her. But since that report she’d nonetheless gone to the bar every day, waiting for him, hoping against hope he’d found the postcards she left him and decided to join her. She could’ve sworn time stood still as she suddenly heard his voice, asking the waiter for a charger. Turning to him, taking him in, she’d just chuckled, wondering how on earth he still had faith in her after everything she’d put him through. 

The way she’d treated Sergio during the heist, the taunting in their negotiations, undermining him in front of his colleagues, asking him what he was wearing, how he orgasmed, not to mention the reason she’d approached him and the subsequent lies, had been a sore point in their relationship for the first year after he joined her in Palawan. But it seemed they had worked through it, and until their peaceful lives had been interrupted by Tokyo, she had been happy. Happier, in fact, and more alive, than Raquel had ever thought possible. 

She’d never believed there was anything to her sister’s proclamations that love was what made life worth living, not until she met Sergio. 

It would still hit Raquel at times, that she’d fallen head over heels for a police officer. Her sister would’ve teased her mercilessly over it, and over the fact that after all these years, she’d actually gone and fallen in love. That she’d been willing to risk everything for that love.

Two years into their relationship though, she still wasn’t used to opening up to someone, and counted her blessings that Sergio not only understood her, but that he also put up with her quirks and flaws. His patience with her seemed infinite, yet she worried she’d one day end up pushing him too far.

Her and Sergio’s relationship and the presence of the inspector in charge of putting them behind bars just three years prior, had undoubtedly created some tension with the group, but Sergio had an impressive ability not to care, to feel confident in his place among them, whether they wanted him there or not. She’d tried reassuring him the first night with everyone in Palawan, told him she’d set them straight, that they would warm up to him. Kissing her gently, he’d told her that he didn’t care, that if they disliked him it was their problem, not his, and she’d yet again been left in awe of his strength. 

And as he’d refused to play the game of trying to be accepted, he’d gradually become just that. 

But Raquel could currently feel the exasperation oozing from him as the discussion had geared towards men’s rights, and she braced herself. To say that the women around the table held archaic views on gender roles was quite the understatement, and there was no way this conversation was heading anywhere but straight into a disaster.

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal”, Bogotá shrugged, taking a swig of her beer.

Huffing, Nairobi asked, “You don’t see why it’s a big deal for us to have the right to make decisions about our own bodies?”

Denver threw her hands up in surprise, “Who’s telling you what to do with your bodies?”

“Everyone!”, Sergio, Estoccolmo and Nairobi all exclaimed simultaneously, causing the women around the table to flinch in surprise. 

Palermo, who thus far had been uncharacteristically quiet, threw down the gauntlet, “Please. You gained the right to choose whether or not to have a vasectomy in 2010, no one’s stopping you from getting one anymore, nor forcing you to do it.”

Nairobi shook his head in disbelief, “You’re proving my point. We gained that right in Spain in 2010! Do you not realise how insane that is? Not to mention that it’s not legal in all parts of the world, AND that those rights are increasingly getting restricted in several countries.”

“Exactly”, Sergio agreed with Nairobi. “It’s all designed so that women maintain power over our bodies. Women decide whether or not they want to have a baby, we have no say whatsoever in the matter, are just there to provide the sperm when told to do so.”

Denver shrugged, raising her beer, “I think it’s a beautiful thing really. Life starts inside men, it’s a gift. You share it with us, and a baby happens. It’s an honour.”

Estoccolmo chocked on his drink at hearing his wife’s words, “If it’s an honour so great then why won’t you let us govern it as we please? And why is it everyone’s business if we don’t want to have children? If we dare think it’s our choice to make? Why does it make us lesser men?”

Palermo interrupted them, eager to share her particular insights. “You’re all getting side-tracked, focusing on the small things. We were talking about sex, not procreation. Only for men are the two intrinsically linked. It’s bizarre really, how you lot can’t separate the two… Besides, I think it’s vital you all know the following.”

She paused to ensure she had everyone’s attention before continuing, “Gay sex is the best sex in the world. Do you know why?” Clearly meant as a rhetorical question, Palermo boasted before anyone had the chance to answer, “It’s obvious. Because there are no men involved.”

Pleased with herself, she laughed heartily as Tokyo mock laughed along, his eyes rolling up to the skies. Failing to see the point of the discussion Raquel wanted to cut them off, but Sergio had told her numerous times to let her team have fun, to let them vent, and so she kept her head down, and let them carry on.

Nairobi, sitting on the other side of Sergio, quickly interjected, “You’re not gay, you’re a misandrist.”

Palermo laughed, pleased with having caused a stir, as Nairobi continued, “Come on, you’d have to be born in a cave to be more misandrist than this.”

“No, no, no, silly boy,” Palermo tutted as she held up a finger, “Don’t confuse misandry with biology. It’s about facts. It’s very simple. Look.”

Raquel could feel Sergio tensing next to her and imagined the men around the table eyeing Palermo in disbelief. She briefly thought they shouldn’t pay these ridiculous assertations any attention, but had been accused of being a stick in the mud on more than one occasion, and decided to keep out of the conversation and her mouth shut, to try to focus on her notes. There was still a lot of work to be done.

“As women, we need to get rid of all this pent-up energy somehow, we have the weight of the world on our shoulders, all right? I know it’s difficult for men to understand, but it’s a fact. And so, every few hours we need to relieve that tension. Basically, we need to”, Raquel didn’t even bother imagining what obscene gesture might be accompanying Palermo’s words, “boom, boom.”

Bogotá and Nairobi chuckled along in agreement, while Sergio rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

Palermo, on a roll, continued, “Afterwards, we feel a revulsion towards whatever we allowed to expel into us.” She appeared perfectly calm and collected as she continued spewing nonsense as though it was somehow factual. “It doesn’t matter who, or what gender, made us come, we reject it.”

 _It_ , Raquel briefly reflected, Palermo couldn’t even view her sexual partners, regardless of their gender, as persons.

“So, we say; Ciao.” Palermo smirked proudly as she declared, “Boom. Boom. Ciao.”

Tokyo couldn’t mask his bitterness, yet sounded too tired to really get roped into it, “Beautiful.”

Palermo powered through, undeterred, “Homosexual sex.”

“Sex between two men is also homosexual”, Raquel couldn’t help but interject.

Ignoring her, Palermo repeated, “Boom, boom, ciao.” As if it was irrefutable, she stated, “Two women meet, and they relieve each other. Boom, boom, ciao. They don’t know each other’s names. It’s perfect, great for them both.”

Tokyo leaned forward, “You know what’s great?” He stared Palermo down, “The mind-blowing way men can enjoy a good fuck.” 

To Raquel’s slight consternation, Sergio added, “Coming just takes us completely out of reality.”

Raising his glass, Estoccolmo declared with a pleased smile, “And we can get a hard-on on anytime, anywhere.”

Happily joining in, Nairobi professed, “And it doesn’t take us hours to come, we can do it”, he snapped his fingers, “like this.”

The three men laughed heartily as Palermo shook her head, “I’m not saying God didn’t give you the ability to feel pleasure. Saying that would be misandrist. I’m merely pointing out the very obvious fact that you don’t need it.”

Nairobi rolled his eyes, “Oh, all right, then.”

“It’s not as essential for you, as it is for women… Allow me to explain. The world is full of saunas where women meet up and relieve each other. Public parks and restrooms, all places where we meet and: boom, boom, ciao. It’s seminal altruism. Now, where are the saunas for men?”

The women around the table laughed, while Nairobi shook his head, “We don’t need them.”

“Oh, you don’t?”

Sergio shook his head too, as Nairobi answered, “Of course not.”

Pleased with the answer, Palermo continued, “They don’t exist. Where are the public restrooms where you jerk each other’s little penises off? Where are they? They don’t exist. And I’ll tell you why.” She settled deeper into her seat, enjoying her moment of glory, “It’s controversial.”

Raquel stared straight ahead, not in the least interested, wishing Palermo would wrap it up already. And she was fairly certain that all of this nonsense would earn her a lecture on sexism from Sergio, even though she fully agreed with him. In truth she’d never tire of discussing with Sergio, debating with him, trying to understand his point of view, but she didn’t enjoy these gender dynamics in the group, didn’t quite understand how they affected things, and was frustrated at her seeming inability to cut through them.

“It’s because male sexuality is conditioned by procreation.”

Raquel rolled her eyes at the ridiculous suggestion, while Sergio’s mouth dropped next to her and he grabbed her leg under the table, his nails digging into the fabric of her slacks. 

“That is, in some way or another, you’re looking for a woman to plant your genes in, to start a family. It’s revolting.” Palermo took a swig of her beer, “You have too many things on your mind; family, love, children, commitment. We only have one. Climaxing.”

Raquel sighed deeply, what an absolute absurdity. But Palermo, pleased with herself, wrapped up her little theory with a bow. “That’s why we; boom, boom, ciao.”

As she began chanting her new concept, unbearably smug, the men around the table collectively groaned, while the women snickered. Denver was the one to finally cut Palermo off, “Look, your theory is bullshit, but the rhythm is catchy.”

Pleading “no” with his wife, Estoccolmo looked on in exasperation as Denver rose, clinking her bottle and joining in with the chant.

Raquel didn’t know what she should be doing as the men around got up and left, sighing loudly and muttering curse words about sexism, women and bastardry. She didn’t particularly want to stay and listen to any more of it, but also wasn’t sure she’d be welcome to join the men given that she too was a woman and thereby undeniably a part of the problem. Probably sensing her hesitation, Sergio placed a hand on her shoulder as he got up, whispered, “You better stay”, planted a kiss to her temple and gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking off. 

The chanting continuing, Palermo ruffled Raquel’s hair as she began dancing around the table and Raquel eventually released an exasperated chuckle. She liked seeing Palermo, Bogotá, Denver and Marsella this way, careless, laughing, dancing around, even if she strongly disagreed with the reason behind it. They’d all lost so much through the years and deserved some lightness in their lives. 

Palermo had been in love with Raquel’s sister for years and still grieved for her almost as much as Raquel did. Denver had lost her mother in the Mint, as she was gunned down and bled out in the final hours of the heist, while Bogotá liked to pretend she didn’t have a care in the world, but Raquel knew better. Much like a sailor, Bogotá had had a man in every harbour and, as a result, had left behind countless children in those harbours as well. Children she only saw very occasionally, but claimed to have the perfect relationship with, one free of expectations and demands. Raquel didn’t buy it though, this detachment from her children, from any and all emotions. And Sergio had informed her that Bogotá currently had a massive crush on Nairobi, yet she seemed unable to express her feelings in any way other than by constantly making sexist jokes, rambling on about her skewed view of the world through her innuendos, and Nairobi, a strong independent man, was having none of it. As for Marsella, the assassin was scarred from war and kept her emotions firmly to herself, but she was currently laughing along with the rest of the women and Raquel couldn’t deny it was good seeing her sister’s old friend smiling.

They undoubtedly deserved to have some fun before throwing themselves back into the lion’s den, but Raquel wished it didn’t have to be at the expense of their male colleagues. Of course Sergio could more than hold his own and didn’t need her to defend him, but he had cautioned her that this blatant sexism wasn’t good for team-building, and would do no one any favours once things got started. Nudging her glasses up her nose, Raquel sighed, she would need to pick Sergio’s brain on this later. She sincerely doubted they could fix the gender imbalance in the group in the coming months, but perhaps they could at least achieve some change, this lunch proving something desperately needed to give. She couldn’t have the members of the gang treat each other with anything other than respect, or they’d risk turning on one another.

Raquel cleared her throat, “I think that’s enough.”

Denver waved her off, “We’re just having a bit of fun.”

“I believe almost half our team would disagree with that statement”, Raquel insisted, adjusting her glasses again.

Palermo huffed, “The men are far too sensitive, they need to lighten up. Would it kill them to learn how to take a joke?” She turned to Raquel with a proud grin, “Perhaps that could be your next lesson with them? How to take a joke? We can all help out, I personally have lots of great advice to share.”

Raquel sighed, shaking her head as the others burst out laughing and a pleased Denver slapped Palermo on the back in congratulations for her supposed brilliance.

Once she stopped laughing, Bogotá added, “Besides, Palermo isn’t entirely wrong. It is biology. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve just wanted to get ploughed, only for the sad sap I’ve allowed to fuck me, to look me deeply in the eyes afterwards, practically begging for a cuddle.” She shuttered, “Who the hell cuddles anyways?”

Turning to her in surprise, brows furrowed, Denver quipped, “I don’t mind it.”

Palermo held up a finger, “Ah, but you, Denver, are ever so soft and desperately in loooove.” Accentuating the word, she batted her eyelashes at her before bursting out laughing. “Not”, she continued, “unlike our dear Professor here.”

Raquel was about to argue that Palermo’s statements lacked any discernible point, that she was merely repeating age-old stereotypes, but Palermo was on a roll and kissed her cheek loudly before releasing her, declaring, “What none of you realise is that love is nothing more than a societal construct that women had to come up with so that men wouldn’t be so stingy about putting out. For those women who for some inexplicable reason find pleasure in a penis, that is.”

She took a swig of her beer, and added, "Which, reinforces my point about homosexual sex. Women don't need to bother with that nonsense. We know exactly what sex is, and what it isn't."

Riddled with guilt at her sister’s demise, Raquel eyed Palermo sadly, the woman’s grief suddenly blatantly apparent through her rants. 

Decisively shaking her head, Raquel pinched her index finger and thumb in the air. “You can certainly make a case for monogamy and heterosexuality as societal constructs Palermo, but love? It comes in far too many shapes, forms and spaces to be so easily defined and summarily dismissed.” She got up, “If you’ll excuse me, I believe we are done with lunch, and I am undoubtedly done with this discussion. As I hope all of you are.”

She got up to leave as Palermo huffed, “See? The idea of love not only clouds your mind, but it turns you into such a bore. Even our poor Professor finds herself entirely whipped.”

Yet again shaking her head, Raquel headed inside, leaving the sexist rants behind her, wondering which of the men would be the first to finally lose patience with Palermo and end up shooting her. Her money was on Sergio, definitely Sergio. It was only a matter of time if Palermo kept this up.


	2. Ibiza

Sergio was stomping down the hallway, fuming, hoping to find Raquel in the kitchen. She was an idiot. He’d fallen in love with an immature, goddam idiot who had no idea how to behave in an adult relationship. In _any_ relationship. And he had no one to blame for it but himself. 

He should’ve known to produce a folder for her with the do’s and don’ts of a relationship, complete with flowcharts and statistics on what would piss him off, why, and what consequences she might expect. Give her the chance to conduct a risk assessment before acting like a jackass. It would probably be the only way to get through that thick skull of hers. 

In all fairness Raquel had made significant progress in opening up to him, to his family, in the two years they’d shared in Palawan but every now and then she’d pull some nonsense that made him want to make her sleep on the beach for a solid month. No blanket, no towel, just her sorry ass on the cold, wet sand. But this was far beyond any rubbish he’d witness her pull thus far, worse, even, than when she’d asked him about his fucking orgasms in front of all of his colleagues.

Reaching the kitchen, he was shaking with anger and didn’t care one bit that she wasn’t alone there, that Marsella, Estoccolmo, Bogotá and Tokyo were all present.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

They all turned to him in shock, including Raquel who as usual had her nose in her notebook. She nudged her glasses and looked around the room, as clueless as the rest of them, “Who, me?”

“No, the pope.” Trying to contain his rage, Sergio smiled bitterly. “Yes, you _Professor_ … Obviously, you”, he added through gritted teeth.

Flinching, Raquel shut her notebook, got up and scurried over to him, asking quietly, “What’s going on?” as she led him away by the elbow.

Yanking his arm away, he decidedly stomped outside with Raquel following him, hoping some fresh air might help calm him down. It didn’t, and he paced back and forth while Raquel just stared at him, confusion written all over her face. 

Struggling to settle on a tactic, anger clouding his judgement, Sergio finally huffed, “I hear congratulations are in order?”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Raquel nudged her glasses up her nose, “Congratulations? What for?”

“I’m told you’re going to become a mother.” He stopped in front of her, crossing his arms, eyebrows raised in challenge. “That’s wonderful news.”

Raquel’s eyes darted from side to side and she shifted uncomfortably, nervously adjusting her glasses again. “Oh. Right.”

Huffing incredulously, he mimicked her, “Oh, right.” 

He waited for her to add anything of substance but when she failed to do so, asked, “That’s all you have to say to me? Oh, right?”

 _Shit._ No sooner had Raquel agreed to have a child with Nairobi, than she realised she’d made a tremendous mistake. But he’d looked at her with such expectation and had pointed out everything she owed him and the others who’d sacrificed so much in the Mint, and she had relented, equal parts flattered and flabbergasted that he would even ask. She’d tried to work up the courage to broach it with Sergio ever since, but had always come up short. And now he had somehow found out and she was bound to be in for it. 

The issue at hand being an incredibly personal matter, Raquel felt entirely out of her depth, and as her brain short circuited, she tried to stall, shifting uncomfortably, stuttering and clenching her hands.

“Uhm… How… How did you find out?”

_Oh, she had to be fucking kidding him._

“How did I find out?!” 

Sergio caught Raquel flinching at his raised voice and realised she was likely to retreat into herself if he spooked her. He took a deep breath, tried to level his voice and smile in an attempt at keeping Raquel focused, but his smile felt bitter and when he spoke, he could tell his words were dripping with sarcasm. 

“Raquel, _cariño_ , that’s hardly the point, now is it?”

She shook her head nervously, and Sergio sighed when she failed to elaborate. Not for the first time he felt like he was in a relationship with a halfwit, rather than one of the most brilliant minds he’d ever met. Raquel’s cluelessness when it came to matters of the heart never failed to stun him, particularly her ability to vacillate between an absolute conviction in their relationship, and an utter lack of insight into the basic workings of emotional attachment. He swore she at times had the emotional maturity of a child, something he could usually find charming but which was currently pissing him off beyond belief, and left him fighting against the urge to rip her a new one. 

Shaking his arms to get rid of the worst of his pent-up energy, he shot her a dirty look. “So how about you walk me through how it is that you agreed to have a child with another man, when you’ve never even implied to me that you might want children?” Before Raquel had a chance to answer, he added, “AND further decided not to talk to me about it!”

“I… I…”

At her stuttering, Sergio crossed his arms, eyebrow raised, and tapped his foot, “Time is not currently your friend Raquel, I strongly suggest you move this along.”

“I’m sorry”, she finally managed but Sergio was having none of it, and huffed.

“I don’t doubt it… But you’re about to be even sorrier. Now spill.”

Raquel took a deep breath and rattled through the story at an impressive speed, only catching her breath once she’d finished, not daring to look at Sergio until she was done and even then, only to shoot him a brief glance, finding him staring at her in disbelief.

“What the…?” Shaking his head, Sergio tried to get her attention. “Raquel.” 

She still wouldn’t look at him and he put his hands around her face to force her to do so, but her gaze kept flickering, “Look at me. Raquel, look at me.” She finally did, shifting nervously, her breath shallow, “What the hell were you thinking?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know… Nairobi caught me off guard, and I owe him everything, I owe all of them everything.”

Stunned, Sergio let her go with a heavy sigh and backed away from her, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know how to even begin unpacking the issue of Raquel’s ever-present guilt, but she didn’t get a free pass simply because she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. This had hurt him, and he felt like an idiot for having celebrated the child with the men the other day, dancing around, Tokyo ending up with his underwear on his head. All the while, Sergio had blissfully unaware that Nairobi’s friend with benefits baby-mama was in fact his own life partner. 

“Is this even something that you want to do? Have a child with Nairobi?”

Raquel nudged her glasses, “I… I don’t think so. I got swept up in the moment, but no, I don’t think so.”

“Do you want a baby in general?”

“With you?”

Sergio huffed, “No, with Tokyo, or perhaps Estoccolmo. Hell, why not both of them?” Eyebrows raised, he grumbled, “Obviously, with me.”

“I don’t know Sergio, I’ve never thought about this before. Before I met you I never even thought in terms of having a family, and for us to have a baby is not something that’s occurred to me.”

If Sergio was being perfectly honest, it hadn’t occurred to him either. He was happy with Paula, had never wanted more, and with both him and Raquel being in their forties, it frankly hadn’t been a possibility he’d even entertained. But now that he was forced to do so, he knew it wasn’t something he wanted. Furthermore, he would actually hate for Raquel to have a child with Nairobi, even though it would ultimately be her choice. But either way, any major life decisions would have to wait until after the heist, they’d have to revert back to the discussion once things had settled again and they were back in Palawan, back home, with their family.

Sergio appearing pensive, Raquel worried she’d finally fucked up beyond repair and that he might’ve had it with her. But much to her surprise, he shook his head with a heavy sigh, then pressed a soft kiss to her lips, murmuring, “You’re an idiot.”

Raquel looked so sheepish as she nodded, that he couldn’t resist framing her face and leaning back in, whispering against her lips, “Such an idiot”, before kissing her again.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“What on earth possessed you to agree to this?”

“I don’t know, I just… He looked at me with so much hope, and… I’m sorry, I’ll tell him no.”

Sergio let her go, walked over to the bench and sat down, with Raquel following suite. “Look, I’m not telling you what to do with your body, they’re your eggs. But surely you understand why I’m angry that you didn’t talk to me about it? And at the fact that I had to find out from Nairobi himself?”

“I do. Truly, I do.”

Raquel scooted closer to him hesitantly and when he let his fingers interlace with hers, rested her head on his shoulder. 

He kissed the top of her head, breathing her in, and realised with a smirk just how to make her truly see that she should’ve spoken to him about this before agreeing to anything. “But you know, this is actually not necessarily a bad thing.” 

His suddenly playful tone made Raquel straighten up and eye him suspiciously. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you I really want to have a baby with Bogotá.”

Raquel appeared so disconcerted at his suggestion that any annoyance Sergio still felt towards her dissipated as she forcefully shook her head, proclaiming, “No.”

“No? Really? I would think that it’s my decision to make, and further that Bogotá and I would make beautiful babies together.”

Beyond uncomfortable with the idea, Raquel nonetheless acquiesced, mumbling, “I have no doubt you’d make beautiful children with anyone, Sergio.”

He laughed, squeezing her hand, “Now you’re just buttering me up.”

“No. You’re beautiful Sergio, breath-takingly so. I’m sorry I don’t tell you more often.”

Slightly taken aback by the sincerity of her proclamation, he eyed her softly, “And you’re an incredibly handsome woman. An idiot, but a very handsome one.” 

Chuckling, she looked so embarrassed at his words that he was reminded of just how impossible it was for him to resist her, this absolutely infuriating, yet fundamentally good, woman. A brilliant, complex, kind woman, unlike anyone he’d ever met, one he’d built a family with in the past two years, a woman who had fully embraced both his daughter and mother. 

Sergio had noticed Raquel gradually beginning to withdraw from him ever since the gang arrived in Palawan, and he hated it. Eager to connect with her, he leaned towards her and captured her lips, hoping to convey the depths of his feelings for her with that kiss, knowing she wasn’t currently susceptible to hearing them expressed.

As they parted though, he couldn’t help but twist the knife again, to make her suffer at least a little more for her idiocy. “And just so you know, there’s already been a party for your future child and it’s going to be called Ibiza.”

“What?”, she asked him exasperated and confused, silently pleading for his help. 

But Sergio merely shrugged. “Don’t look at me, you brought this on yourself”, winking, he added, “Professor.”

Sergio had let her off the hook easy, she realised as much. The man currently snoring softly next to her never ceased to amaze her with his ability not to strangle her, particularly when her inaptitude with relationships was so blaringly obvious. Talking about children that day though, had made her think of his daughter, Paula. 

It had surprised her how much she’d enjoyed bonding with her, and the fact that the girl seemed to accept her in her life filled Raquel with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It was evident that Paula missed her mother, but the girl seemed to have slowly accepted Sergio’s explanations that his ex-wife hadn’t been a very good person. Accepted them for now, anyways. Thinking of that woman laying hands on Sergio never failed to make Raquel’s blood boil, but it also reminded her of just how strong he was. The fact that he had gotten out of an abusive relationship, and had found it in his heart to open up to her, even though she’d lied to him and misled him, was a source of constant amazement for Raquel. She didn’t deserve him, she knew she didn’t. Yet there he was, sleeping at her side, ready to fight for what he believed in, ready to support her, even though she was so hapless.

She could tell Sergio missed Paula though, and the truth was she did as well. She missed their lives in Palawan, missed the way Paula’s face would contort in laughter or scrunch up in disbelief at something she said. But this needed to be done, for Rio, and they couldn’t afford to be distracted. She was the Professor, he was Lisboa. 

Well, she tried to remain in those roles, but Sergio had an impressive ability to drag her out of her shell, to coax her away from planning and force her to come back to him, to them. 

That night had been no exception. She’d assumed he was still irritated with her, and he had caught her entirely off guard. She’d been sitting in her pyjamas on their bed, working on plan Epicentro, looking forward to sharing it with him, knowing he’d make it even stronger. And to be honest she enjoyed the way he’d look at her, almost in awe, when she’d convey a particularly complex point of action. 

He’d taken her utterly by surprise as he entered their bedroom though, demanding she remove her pyjamas, and as she looked up at him, perplexed at his tone, he removed his robe to show off his toned body, wearing only boxers, eyebrows raised in an enticing challenge. He was gorgeous, impossible to resist, and her arousal awakened, Raquel quickly agreed that the plan could wait. But he insisted she brief him as he slowly walked up to her, ripped her pyjama shirt open and slid it off her shoulders. He lowered himself with a smirk, spread her legs and as he went down on her Raquel struggled relaying the plan in a coherent manner, his mouth and tongue hot on her wet centre. 

He’d then proceeded to fuck her senseless and they’d fallen asleep intertwined, connected again. Glancing over at him with a smile, she let her fingers lightly graze his beard, not wanting to wake him up, content in just having him next to her, grateful for his presence, his strength, for him being her Lisboa, for being him, for never wavering.


	3. Fatherly duties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

Raquel had always been a loner, had always take refuge in solitude, her books and her mother’s stories about bank robberies throughout her childhood, a habit she’d carried on into her adult life. All of that had been upended the moment Sergio joined her in Palawan with his family though, and she had since been surrounded by chaos, noise, and a constant mess, yet she’d never been happier, had never felt more at home, more at ease. The loss of her sister was still crushing, but she no longer wallowed in grief, and Paula in particular never failed to draw her out of any funk she would occasionally slide into.

But they weren’t in Palawan anymore, Paula wasn’t there, the monastery bore traces of her sister everywhere, and Raquel could feel herself retreating, for some inexplicable reason pulling away from the man she loved. Sergio tried to offer her support, but Raquel knew how he felt about Berlin, and couldn’t bring herself to actually talking about her with him. They’d met briefly when he, as the inspector in charge, had entered the Mint, and Sergio had not been impressed. He had confronted her about the type of person her sister had actually been, told her that she’d sexually assaulted one of the hostages, had taken advantage of the man’s fragile mind and fear for his life in the worst way imaginable. But Sergio hadn’t known her, hadn’t looked up to Berlin for most of his life, she hadn’t been his only friend, the only person to accept him. Berlin had been all those things to Raquel. She was her sister, her blood, and she now found herself keeping her grief to herself, and Sergio at arm’s length.

She’d joined him in bed late that night, having spent the evening going over some plans with Palermo and, if she was being completely honest with herself, avoiding Sergio as well. The heist was only days away and she was conflicted at the fact that he would be with her, right next to her, through it all. She’d done it alone the last time, and her relationship with Sergio had proven fatal to both Oslo and Moscú. They couldn’t afford to let that happen again, she couldn’t afford to get distracted by her feelings for him. But no sooner had she snuck in under the covers that he yet again demanded she come back to him. He scooted closer, let one arm drape over her, and as he pressed a kiss behind her ear mumbling a question about what had taken her so long, she felt both her body and tired soul relax, her mind finally shutting down. The feeling of Sergio’s warm body next to her impossibly soothing, she soon fell asleep with a content hum.

They were awoken by shouting in the middle of the night and Raquel cursed the undeniable fact that they were dealing with a group of children. No, hormonal teenagers was a more accurate description for them. Sighing, she motioned to get up, but Sergio’s arm kept her pinned down as he muttered, “Let them have it out. Stay.”

She was about to protest that they had a busy day ahead, one which required their full focus, but Sergio’s hand wandered in under her shirt as he nibbled his way from her neck to her mouth, and she melted under his touch. She’d never experienced this kind of connection with any man before. Sure, she’d had quasi-relationships, but she’d never particularly enjoyed neither the physical nor emotional aspect of them. But with Sergio, sex was intuitive, profound, all-consuming, and she craved it, couldn’t get enough of his hands on her body, his lips on hers, of feeling him inside her.

The shouting persisted though, and Sergio sighed, reluctantly recognising that she would have to deal with it. Raquel regretfully left his warm embrace, promising, “We’ll continue this later”, sealing the deal with a deep kiss.

From what she could gather from the shouting as she got closer, it seemed Denver had suggested Estoccolmo stay behind in the monastery with Cinci, sitting out the heist. Raquel imagined that suggestion was accompanied by an implication that he was an irresponsible father for leaving their child in the care of strangers while they threw themselves headfirst into danger. The thought of her daring to suggest the same to Sergio, that he stay behind with their family while she travelled to the other side of the world to take on the Spanish authorities, made Raquel squirm. He undoubtedly would have had her ovaries.

Denver had exceedingly traditional, outdated views on gender roles, sometimes in spite of her best intentions. Her father having succumbed to drugs when she was only a child, her mother had done her best to raise a child on her own. While out of her depth, Moscú had broken the mould, having loved and cared for Denver in a way women were not expected to do, were even mocked for doing. But her father’s absence had nonetheless left a hole in Denver, and she wanted more for her own child. With her own history, she was convinced that nothing could replace a father’s love, and firmly believed Cinci needed Estoccolmo more than he needed her, believed that only a father could truly nurture and care for a child.

Raquel arrived just in time to catch Palermo grabbing her crotch, then shouting at the men to go do the dishes, and before she knew it, everyone was at it. She clapped her hands to get their attention and swiftly sent them off to bed, Estoccolmo apologising and saying he’d bunk up with Tokyo for the night, as Denver pleaded with him to come back to their room.

Returning to bed, Raquel curled up next to Sergio who complained about her cold feet before asking, “What was it about this time?” 

She shook her head, “I'd rather not tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It'll only annoy you.”

Sergio framed her face, an eyebrow raised, “I'm already annoyed...”

“More then. It'll definitely annoy you more.”

She tried to distract him by snaking her hand under his t-shirt, and nuzzling his neck, but Sergio wasn’t having it. “Out with it, Raquel.”

Shaking her head, she let her hand travel down to his boxers as she nibbled and licked a sensitive spot on his neck. “After.”

She knew she had him when he chuckled and asked, feigning ignorance, “After what?”

“After we finish what we started.” Grinning, she grabbed his crotch and silenced any retort he might have by slipping her tongue into his mouth, swallowing his soft moans. She'd just felt him starting to harden, when they were interrupted by the door bursting open and Tokyo marching in, demanding he be put in charge alongside Palermo.

The following morning, Sergio walked into the kitchen to find Estoccolmo complaining to Nairobi and Tokyo, Cinci on his lap. Raquel had filled him in on what she knew of the previous night’s commotion once they got rid of Palermo and she hadn’t been wrong, it had pissed him off. And it seemed he was not the only one.

Estoccolmo sounded exasperated as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “And you know what she had the gall of telling me this morning? That I overreacted, because I’m tense. Because of the heist getting closer.”

Tokyo huffed, “I’m sorry, did I miss something? Are we not all tense?” Shaking his head, he added bitterly, “Fucking idiot.”

“Hey Lisboa,” nibbling on his toast, Nairobi nodded to Sergio, “does the Prof ever tell you that?”

“Tell me what?”

“Not to get your tighty withies in a twist, that you’re overreacting.”

Sergio huffed, “I’d like to see her try.” He helped himself to a cup of coffee and sat down.

“So… No then?”

“No, she’s never told me that I’m overreacting… My ex used to do it all the time though. It’s beyond infuriating.”

“Paula’s mother?”

“Right.” Not wanting to linger on his abusive ex-wife, Sergio added, “I can’t even imagine Ra… The Professor saying that. Although she does say a lot of dumb shit out of pure cluelessness.”

Laughs erupted around the table and Tokyo declared with a wink, his glass raised, “I can imagine.”

Estoccolmo shook his head, “I’m just… I’m more than just a father, or a husband, you know? I’m my own person. Why does it make _me_ a bad father for leaving Cinci, but doing the same doesn’t make her a bad mother? And why is it that Denver conveniently forgets that I actually saved her sorry ass in the Mint. Twice!”

“Oh, oh! I know the answer to this one!” Nairobi exclaimed, raising his arm. “Because she’s an idiot with a whole bunch of daddy issues and a very sever case of misandry.”

They all burst out laughing, and once the laughter died down, with Estoccolmo and Nairobi turning their attention to Cinci, Tokyo leaned over to Sergio. “So, did you talk about it? Did the Professor decide?”

“Did we talk about what you came in shouting at us in the middle of the night? No Tokyo, no we did not.”

Tokyo huffed, “And why the hell not?”

“We had more important things to do”, Sergio answered with a smirk. He couldn’t help it, he enjoyed getting under the man’s skin. Though they’d settled their differences and had accepted each other’s presence, they were far from the other’s favourite person and never let an opportunity to piss the other off go to waste.

Tokyo rolled his eyes, “Please.”

They were interrupted by Palermo entering the room, immediately asking if they’d been good little housemen and had prepared breakfast for the strong women who had a big day ahead. Fed up with her nonsense, Sergio picked up an apple and threw it at her head, only just missing, and Palermo’s head snapped in his direction.

“What the fuck?”

Sergio stared her down, “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. So from now on, I’ll always carry an apple with me and whenever you start spewing sexist nonsense, I’ll toss it at you. Come to think of it, I’ll probably need more apples.” He got up, taking his cup with him, “I swear Palermo, you’re like a one trick pony.”

He crossed Raquel on his way out who, upon catching his annoyance, gave him an uncertain, questioning look, nudging her glasses. Grateful for the fact that she was nothing like Palermo or Denver and tired of having to restrain himself in front of the team, tired of feeling Raquel gradually pulling away from him, Sergio let a hand come up to the back of her head, leaned down, and kissed her thoroughly to the sound of wolf whistles. As he pulled back, Raquel’s eyes slowly opened, and she looked equal parts shellshocked, pleased, and embarrassed. 

“What… What was that for?”

“For you being a progressive woman, secure enough in your womanhood to recognise me as your equal.”

Raquel nudged her glasses, shifting uncomfortably, “Oh.” Trying to gather herself, she nodded, “Ok, then. Good.” As Sergio began walking away, she asked, “Did you already have breakfast?”

“No, I lost my appetite.”

“Palermo?” Raquel asked knowingly.

Confirming her suspicions, Sergio ran a hand through his hair. “Palermo.”

“I’ll talk to her, Sergio.”

“I’m not sure it would make much of a difference.”

“Still. I’ll try.”

He gave her a small, tired smile, “Ok.”

Raquel didn’t want him to leave that way, and further wanted to spend some time alone with him. She not only felt bad about having avoided Sergio, but she also missed him, the way they’d connected that night, and that morning, reminding her of where her priorities ultimately laid, with Sergio, with his daughter, with their family. 

“Do you want me to bring breakfast to our room?”

“You’ll join me?”

Raquel nodded unsurely, but relaxed as Sergio came back to her, leaned in and placed a chaste kiss to her lips, smiling as he answered, “Then yes, please, that would be lovely.”

Watching Sergio walk away, Raquel tried to memorise the way he’d just made her feel, tried to catalogue every feeling he’d ever evoked in her, hoping she’d be able to draw from it in the future, should anything go wrong. Too many things could go wrong in this heist and she knew with an absolute certainty that if Sergio at any point would be at risk, she’d sacrifice herself for him. It would be her fault he was even there to begin with, and he had a daughter who needed him. 

But her main fear wasn’t that she’d end up dead or having to spend the rest of her life in prison, those were things they had plans in place for. No, what she feared was that she’d retreat into the Professor and end up pushing Sergio too far, that he’d finally realise he was far too good for her. That he’d pack up his family and leave.

She would end up alone, without her partner, without her step-daughter, without her sister. Alone. She couldn’t let that happen, and thought that perhaps if she imprinted how being in bed with him last night had felt, how safe she’d been, how happy, alive, then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t fuck this up. Entering the kitchen to prepare their breakfast, Palermo was quickly at her side, sporting a wounded look.

“Make sure to keep your man in check Professor. He nearly took me out with an apple!”

“While I don’t condone violence, I have no doubt that particular apple was justified”, Raquel retorted with a shrug.

Palermo huffed and theatrically threw her arms up in the air, “So now we’re allowed to be violent? Fine, I’ll carry an apple as well and will throw it at him whenever he pisses _me_ off.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“Oh, I see. I suppose there’s a clause for not hurting your little boyfriend, hm?”

“No, there’s a rule for not hurting any of the team members. And violence against men is no laughing matter Palermo, surely even you recognise that.”

“But violence against women is?”

“Of course not. It’s a very real problem as well, and highly stigmatised. But it’s not even near as widespread, and you know it.”

“Well I personally…”

Raquel had finally had enough. “Will you shut up?!” The table turned to her in shock and Palermo was unusually stunned silent, her eyebrows raised. 

“Do you know that it’s estimated that one in three men globally have been subjected to either violence, sexual or not, by an intimate partner, or sexual violence by someone else? That a whooping 38 percent of murders of men, have been committed by a female intimate partner? Do you know what that means? That the most dangerous place for men, is their own home.”

Raquel took a deep breath before continuing, staring the other woman down. “Now, we are about to head into an extremely dangerous situation, and I need you to act as a team. While I know I won’t change your views, archaic and nonsensical as they might be, I’m asking you to refrain from antagonising your male teammates, dare I even suggest treat them with a minimum amount of respect.”

Palermo puffed, trying to get support from the others in the room, none of whom came to her defence.

“Like it or not Palermo, the men on this team are your equals, and you will treat them accordingly. Are we clear?”

Rolling her eyes, Palermo huffed, and Raquel repeated, accentuating every word. “Are. We. Clear.”

“Yes. We’re clear”, Palermo finally, reluctantly conceded, biting her lower lip.

“Good.” Raquel prepared a trey for her and Sergio. “I don’t want to have this discussion again. We’re in the 21st century, let’s try and act like.”


End file.
